


Just You & I

by rainftw



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Meaningless Feel Good Content, Mildly contemplative Roger, really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25040704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainftw/pseuds/rainftw
Summary: “You sound very intelligent you know.” Roger added. Waggling his eyebrows.“That your new thing?” John asked. Staring down at Roger, a slight smirk upon his lips.
Relationships: John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Comments: 11
Kudos: 32





	Just You & I

**Author's Note:**

> Did y'all SEE the new Joger pic????? I HAD to.  
> Also major props to me for the very original title.

Roger was comfortably slumped back in an armchair in the corner of the room. Half-listening to the people chatting all around him, absentmindedly playing with the heavy necklace resting at the hallow of his throat.

He’d been lazily watching as Freddie had his makeup done, listening to a conversation Brian was having with one of the crew members. Something about his treble booster. Roger couldn’t be too bothered. He took a long, satisfying drag of his cigarette and closed his eyes.

“No, John fixed it, actually.” He heard Brian explaining. 

Roger rolled his head back lazily, just in time to see John gesticulating away with his hands.

Saying something about electrical circuits here, potentiometers there. Speaking a language of which Roger didn’t much understand. With such conviction that Roger felt compelled to listen either way.

He heard Brian mumble something akin to a “Cheers.” in the background. From the other side of the small dressing room.

John turned his attention to Roger then, dropping his hands from where they were hovering in mid-air. Roger played with the fabric of his own robe. The chatting around them continued.

Roger tilted his face up to meet John’s.

“Where’d that come from?” Roger said playfully.

John smiled bashfully and crossed an arm across his middle. He looked so incredibly _tall_ from where Roger was sitting. Tall and slender. Roger took another deep drag of his cigarette. Desperate for something to occupy his hands and mouth. Keep them busy.

“You sound very intelligent you know.” Roger added. Waggling his eyebrows.

“That your new thing?” John asked. Staring down at Roger, a slight smirk upon his lips.

“It’s highly attractive.” Roger stated with a shrug.

John laughed and slapped Roger’s shoulder.

“I’ll keep that in mind, then.” John said contemplatively. Rubbing his hand up and down his own arm.

Roger wanted to offer him a smoke, but knew he’d decline. He had a memory of watching John smoke, that one time after that one gig. John’s stomach had trembled with effort, trying to hold the smoke in his lungs. Lips wrapped around the filter just seductively enough for Roger to react.

He'd been hot then. On top of Roger's thighs.

Roger reckoned he’d find most things about John attractive enough.

He was attractive later that evening too.

From Roger’s spot on the drum-risers. 

From behind.

From the front.

From beside him.

From pressed up against Roger’s side on a ratty old sofa, too.

In matching white robes. Smelling distinctly of cheap shower gel.

“I look a right mess there.” John mumbled against Roger’s shoulder. Pointing at the Polaroid in Roger’s hand.

“Yeah.” Roger agreed. “Horrible.”

John snickered. Pushed his face into Roger’s shoulder nonetheless. “I fucking hate you, you know.”

Roger wrapped the arm that wasn’t holding the stack of gig-photos around John’s narrow shoulders. Breathing into the top of John’s head. Pressing a quick kiss there. Because he could. Because he felt like it.

“The feeling’s mutual.” He replied calmly. Pressing John’s head close against his chest. Letting him hear his thumping heart.

“Good.” John murmured. His head had slipped into Roger’s lap.

“Good.” Roger agreed, threading his fingers through John’s frizzy hair.

Roger was sat peacefully yet again. Waiting for the others to finish showering so they could hop in his van and head home. So he could tuck John into bed and kiss his forehead in goodnight. Because that’s the mood he was in tonight.

This time more exhausted, muscles protesting from hours of relentless drumming. This time with John nestled safely in his lap.

He traced the length of John’s nose with the pad of his finger. Running it over the contours of his face that weren’t pressed into Roger’s stomach. Over the delicate skin beneath his eye, across the lid and over his forehead. John sighed in contentment, the breath of air hot against Roger’s belly.

It was a mere hour later when Roger pulled up to the curb outside Freddie’s flat. Watching in the rearview mirror as he patted himself down, lest he forgot anything. Before placing a hand on Roger’s shoulder.

“Drive home safely, yeah?” Freddie said, squeezing Roger’s shoulder for good measure.

“Yeah, ‘course.” Roger smiled a tired smile back at Freddie as he shuffled to open the door.

“Just saying, you look like you’re about to nod off.” Freddie continued.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Roger waved him off.

Freddie eyed him up and down before shrugging.

“If you say so.” Freddie sounded unconvinced but dropped it. 

“Promise.” Roger said, earnestly.

“I’ll hold you to it. And kill you if you die in a car crash.”

They laughed for a good two minutes after that statement. Because they were best friends and that’s what best friends do. Roger watched as Freddie clambered out of his van when they’d calmed down enough to breathe properly. Freddie slammed the door shut. Startling John who’d almost fallen asleep in the passenger seat beside Roger.

Roger rolled his window down slight, just so Freddie would be able to hear him.

“Night Fred.”

Freddie stopped in his tracks to blow a kiss over his shoulder.

“Goodnight Rog.” He paused, “And Deaky, if he’s awake.”

Roger looked over his shoulder.

“Barely, bet he’ll be gutted he missed his goodnight from you.” Roger pouted.

Freddie had told him to shut up and that was that.

He’d driven them home safely. Successfully and, quite frankly surprisingly, avoiding getting into a car accident with how his eyes were drooping. How he was more focused on how peaceful John looked while he slept than he was on the road ahead.

He parked the car outside their building and turned the engine off. Tucking a strand of John’s hair behind his ear.

“John.” He tried softly, stroking John’s cheek.

“Deaky?” He shook his shoulder instead.

After the fifth attempt he’d almost given up. Started contemplating whether or not he was strong enough to carry John inside.

He was out the door and around to John’s side. One arm trapped beneath John’s thighs and one behind his back when John finally stirred. Roger sighed in relief. He definitely wasn’t strong enough.

In the end John had walked inside by himself. Roger close in tow.

He’d tucked John into bed just like he’d wanted to. Kissed his forehead and let him cling to his body for all it was worth.

Roger’s chest swelled with pride at how comfortable John looked half on top of him. Drooling disgustingly onto Roger’s sleep shirt.

He wouldn’t have it any other way. And for now, he wouldn’t rather have anybody else.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the lack of plot. Hope you enjoyed it anyways. Otherwise please go enjoy the picture, I beg you.
> 
> Thank you for reading<3
> 
> (My brand is ghost until Joger strikes, apparently.)


End file.
